


But We Go On

by anniebibananie



Category: Ready or Not (2019)
Genre: (hopefully), Angst, But hopeful I think, F/M, Or maybe he's a figment of Grace's imagination, Post-Canon, Road Trips, You Decide, angst ending, ghost!Daniel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-09
Updated: 2020-01-09
Packaged: 2021-02-27 15:27:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,019
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22189375
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anniebibananie/pseuds/anniebibananie
Summary: Grace has been on a few road trips in her life, but never with her dead brother-in-law in the passenger seat. That's new.[snapshots of grace and daniel in the aftermath]
Relationships: Daniel Le Domas/Grace Le Domas
Comments: 51
Kudos: 245





	But We Go On

**Author's Note:**

> this is a little all over the place but i love this movie!! a lot!! so had to write something. pls enjoy <3

Grace didn’t know if she’d gone crazy or not. She didn’t care much if she had, so maybe it didn’t really matter. It was something to think about, at least, a thought that was concrete and manageable. Something that wasn’t spiraling about the wealth of trauma she would never be able to unburden.

“You’re quiet.” Daniel sat in the passenger seat, legs up on the dashboard (the action of it seemed so  _ him  _ it hurt), blue shirt rolled up at the sleeves. 

“As it turns out,” Grace said, letting her circular sunglasses slide down her nose to look at him over the edge, “I was not made to entertain you.” She watched long enough to see a satisfied smirk play at his lips, a small chuckle, before she turned back toward the road. 

Daniel hummed. “Well, I need  _ something  _ to entertain me.” 

“You could… move on,” she suggested with a wave of her hand. It was an overplayed line at this point, but there were certain parts they couldn’t help but fall into. 

“And leave you all alone?” He tutted. “I’ll wait at least until you get wherever you’re going for that. Where are you going, by the way? We’ve been driving for at least a day now.” 

She smiled wide, the sort of smile that said  _ fuck you _ but couldn’t help but grow a little soft when it came to him. How fucked up was that? That she’d grown to care for this man, an asshole, an overgrown child from a fucked-up family that had tried to  _ kill  _ her. A ghost, she had to remind herself too often. 

Dutifully, she kept her eyes on the road. “Wouldn’t you like to know.” 

“That’s why people ask questions, Grace,” he said. 

But he didn’t push, and she didn’t answer.

* * *

He’d turned up only a few days after the whole incident. She’d spent the majority of that time recovering in a hospital, attempting to explain to police and doctors what had happened. It had been hard to explain, mostly because Grace wasn’t sure how to say  _ my in-laws were trying to sacrifice me to the devil,  _ but she’d managed well enough. 

She came back to her apartment to find him sprawled on the couch, eyes listlessly focused on the ceiling. 

“What the  _ fuck _ ,” she’d near-screamed, shutting the door quickly behind herself so the neighbors wouldn’t be alerted. 

Daniel was dead. She’d seen him dying. She’d seen the house burn behind her, taking all of their remains to ash. He shouldn’t be here. He couldn’t be alive, she couldn’t…

“Surprise,” he said, sitting up as he did something that was probably meant to be a mock of jazz hands. “I’ve been waiting for you.” He paused a beat. “That sounded fucking creepy.” 

“You’re dead.” She reached out for the counter beside her, resting her hands on the surface. Her eyes couldn’t stray from him, whether that be fear of him disappearing or approaching or— She just needed to know what was happening. She wanted reassurance that the devil hadn’t taken her life into hand again. 

“I am.” He stood up, and Grace noticed for the first time that he was still in what he’d been wearing the day of her wedding (read also: the day he’d died). Olive suspenders over a robin egg blue button-up, the bow tie hung loose. She’d watched him bleed all over that shirt, though it looked spotless now. 

“So you’re…” she trailed off. Saying the words  _ a ghost  _ seemed ridiculous, though that must be the closest to the truth. 

Unless she’d lost her mind which might be equally possible at this point. She could already imagine some therapist slapping on a label— _ coping mechanism, overstretched mine.  _

He shrugged. “I just showed up here a few days ago. I didn’t realize it was your place until…” His eyes trailed to the pictures on the mantel. 

Grace kicked her duffel bag to the side, the one she’d dropped to the ground upon seeing Daniel Le Domas looking alive and well in her apartment. Her eyes scanned the room for all the evidence, knowing she couldn’t possibly get it all, but she walked to the mantel and knocked the photos over. She noticed an old sweatshirt still hung over the love seat, and she took it straight to the window to throw it out past the fire escape. 

She hated that there would be more—more symbols of Alex, of the beginning of a life she’d thought she was about to live—and that she would be having to escape them for months and years to come.

“What are you doing here?” she asked. 

“I don’t know.” He shrugged again. He was as lost for answers as she was.

Grace nodded. He didn’t seem to be messing with her, and it was hard to imagine he would after watching his neck bleed from where his wife had shot him just in the name of saving  _ her.  _ It was enough reassurance for now.

“Cool. I’m going to get drunk.” 

He nodded back before falling to the sofa. “ _ Fuck _ . I wish I could join you.” 

* * *

“Where are we?” His eyes were closed, the seat pushed as far back as it could be to accommodate his longs legs (as if he was corporeal, as if it mattered; the line between what he could touch and what he couldn’t was incomprehensible to her), as he leaned back with his forearm laid over his eyes. 

She hadn’t known he was even awake. “Kentucky.” 

“Why the  _ fuck  _ are we in Kentucky? I’ve never been in Kentucky in my life.” 

“Peasants like myself have to use these things called  _ cars  _ to travel, and it sometimes requires driving through places. Did a tutor on one of your private jets never teach you that?” 

Daniel removed his arm and turned in the chair to look at her. She was feeling jumpy, clearly in the need to either stop or get some caffeine, but it was too bright still to stop. She’d driven through the night, not bothering to listen to her body, but she’d need to pause at some point… it wasn’t as if Daniel could help her drive. 

“We did do one family road trip, you know. Quite atrocious.” 

“Quite atrocious,” she mocked. She adjusted her hands on the wheel, turned the stereo lower as a loud pop song came on. “Why?” 

“Mom was the only one who’d ever been on one. Wanted to recreate childhood memories or some shit, but dad couldn’t stand being cooped up. Emilie was fucking spastic even then, unable to entertain herself. Alex just watched movies the whole time and blocked all of us out.” 

“Him and I drove from Boston to Ohio once,” she said. “He didn’t like being cooped up much then, either.” 

“Why Ohio?” he asked. 

Grace shrugged as she kept her eyes forward and tightened her hands on the wheel. “It’s where I’m from, originally. There were lots of different houses but all Ohio. I wanted to show him, I guess.” 

Daniel hummed, purposefully hard to read as he rested his back against the door. “How’d that go?” 

“He was perfectly considerate,” she said. “He was…” She didn’t know how to finish that. Perfect? It seemed weird now to think back on that and know what he’d do, how he would betray her in every way a lover could, but he hadn’t been bad then. 

Grace hated him. She knew she was owed that, but she knew it must be more complicated for Daniel. He was his  _ brother _ , but Daniel had been the one in the end to prove good against evil. He’d been the only one with a moral compass. 

“He was Alex,” he said, and she was grateful for the save. “He was good at being exactly what you needed him to be.” 

“Yeah,” Grace said. She’d never thought about him like that, but it was true. He was always perfect in the way she needed, but now she wondered how much of that had been fake. Was he playing a part even then? Perfect boyfriend, perfect fiance—treating her like some sort of savior for his own fucked-up sense of self. 

“I never would have gone to fucking Ohio with you,” Daniel said. “I have standards.”

“And yet… here you are… in Kentucky,” Grace replied with a chuckle. 

“Didn’t have much of a choice, babe.” He laughed, running a hand through his messy hair and turning toward her. “I get the impression you’re good at making a man do what you want him to.” 

She bristled. “That sounds manipulative.” Her eyes narrowed. 

“I mean it as a compliment. You’re persuasive. You got Alex to marry you even knowing the risks.” 

Grace darkened. “I think that says more about him than it does me.” She couldn’t help being angry with Daniel, like somehow he thought it was  _ her  _ fault for ending up in that beautiful, deadly home. Fuck him. Fuck  _ all  _ of them for thinking their privilege was more important than a simple life.  _ Her  _ life.

How many had died before her for their wealth and their comfort? It made her sick. It brought the taste of their blood in her mouth back like a phantom pang. 

“Sorry, I—” Daniel scratched at his neck and looked back out the window by his side. “Sorry.” 

“Did Charity know?” Grace asked after a minute, the question bubbling inside of her.

“Of course,” Daniel said. “Alex didn’t remember a lot about the first time, that was… I tried to shield him. I didn’t want him to know. But I… I’ve spent the last thirty years of my life thinking about it every fucking day. I wouldn’t have put someone I truly loved to that risk.” 

“Charity knew, and she still wanted to go through with it?” Grace asked. It was hard to believe despite seeing exactly how ruthless she’d been.

Daniel nodded. “She was a hard woman. Shitty upbringing, but damn if she wasn’t… well, charming. Funny in a sharp way when we first met. I never loved her, but I used to like her. Then I didn’t even feel that.” 

A pause. “Would you have told me?” Grace asked. 

Daniel turned, and despite the fact that Grace was driving she turned toward him too. She needed to see his face and know the answer. 

“No,” Daniel said. He nodded, sure in his words. “I wouldn’t have told you. I wouldn’t have let you near that house. Hell, I wouldn’t have let you near  _ me _ . You’re too good, Grace.” 

“You’re just sa–”

“No.” He shook his head, dark intense eyes forced back on the road seemingly to no longer feel the pressure of her gaze. “I’m not.” 

Maybe she’d picked the wrong brother, she thought not for the first time. But if what he said was true, Daniel never would have let her pick him in the first place. 

* * *

“Where are you going?” Daniel asked. 

It was nearing two weeks of being back in her apartment. Two weeks to try to process the unprocessable, all while being haunted by your dead brother-in-law. If it was less ridiculous it might have been the set-up for a bad joke. 

Instead the joke was just her life. 

Daniel leaned purposefully casual in the doorway. Though, now that Grace thought about it, he always seemed casual. Though casual wasn’t quite the right word for it, either. Casual implied you were at ease. Daniel had just… stopped caring. Or tricked himself into believing he had at the very least. 

Grace turned back toward her duffel on the bed. Beside it was a box she’d thrown a few things she didn’t want to leave behind into: a couple of books, some documents, a plant her last foster mother had given her that Grace had somehow managed to keep alive despite having no sense of a green thumb. 

_ “That thing defies the laws of nature,” Alex said after watching it recover for weeks from a brown shrivel to a lush green.  _

_ “A survivor,” Grace said with a nod.  _

_ Alex wrapped his arms around her waist from behind before kissing a spot on her neck. “Like you.”  _

She turned to Daniel. “Away from here,” she said. She walked to her closet and reached in for practical clothes—jeans, shirts, sweatshirts. She didn’t want to look at all those dresses and skirts she had worn on dates with Alex when she was still hoping to impress him at least a little. “I’m selling everything here. The estate is going to help rent this place out to someone else since my lease isn’t up.” 

“The estate,” Daniel said carefully. 

Grace turned, threw her hands up to the side. “The last surviving Le Domas. I’m rich as shit, or didn’t you hear?” 

“Seeing as the only person who can hear or see me is you… no. I hadn’t.” 

Grace gnawed on her bottom lip as she turned away and continued shoving her clothes into the duffel. The room was suffocating. It was a shame; she’d loved this apartment once. She remembered walking through the tiny hall and seeing the big closet and feeling like a queen for being able to afford her very own place. She’d never lived anywhere that wasn’t crawling with other people and stuffed to the brim. 

“Well, I am. And I can’t stay here, so…” 

“Where are you going?” he asked again. 

“On the road,” Grace said instead of saying  _ I still don’t know.  _ “You’re welcome to the passenger seat.” 

Daniel hummed. She imagined it was probably a yes.

* * *

Grace fell to the bed, and her limbs groaned. The bed was pretty shitty. She knew logically she had enough money in her bank account to stop somewhere nice. Habits die hard, though, and the thought of spending that much money on somewhere she was only sleeping seemed stupid. 

“This place is a pile of shit,” he said. “I’m a ghost, and I’m still worried about getting bed bugs.” 

“Good thing you’re dead. And don’t need to sleep.”

“Just because I don’t need to doesn’t mean I can’t, Grace. I still enjoy comfort.”

Daniel jumped onto the bed beside her, though the mattress did not dip underneath his now non-existent weight. He was close, only a foot away, but it was strange that she couldn’t feel his heat, couldn’t  _ touch  _ him. Not that she’d tried. 

She turned onto her side and propped her head up with her hand. He was already watching her. 

“Why are you here?” she asked. 

He shrugged. “If I knew I probably wouldn’t still be here.” 

Grace wanted badly to touch his face—trail her finger over the bridge of his nose, feel the scratch of his facial hair beneath the pads of her fingers. She wanted to reach out and for it to be real flesh, real human. She wanted to be able to touch him because she had the feeling if he was still alive it would have been like straight heat, like lighting yourself on fire and letting it consume you. 

She brought her hand close to his face but not close enough to ruin the illusion. 

“I don’t know why you even let me stay near you,” he whispered, eyes now closed as if he too was imagining what the touch would be like. 

Her hand followed the curve of his brow then the lines of his cheek, his jaw. “You hate yourself so much.” It wasn’t a question; a fact. 

“You should, too.” 

“You saved me,” she said. She wasn’t some damsel in distress—she knew she was the reason she was here, but she also knew without him she probably wouldn’t be, either. 

“You saved yourself.” He opened his eyes, and it took everything for her not to jolt back at the sudden contact. “Don’t go giving me credit for anything less than being a little less shitty than the rest of my family.” 

“Hm, fair.” She let her hand come back to her side, afraid she’d take it too far and ruin the fallacy that she could touch him. “I still wish…” She took a deep breath before turning around onto her side, avoiding the look of his eyes that sent something straight through her like a bolt of electricity. “I wish you could have made it out.” 

“Curses aren’t designed to be fair,” he said. His voice sounded nearer than she’d thought he would be. She almost thought she could feel his breath on her neck before remembering there was no air when he spoke, no vitals. “Deals with the devil probably shouldn’t be.”

All the moves Grace made that brought her here. Seeing Alex, falling for him, wanting a family to belong to and a wedding to make it all official. All of those little moves, some of them not her own doing, brought her to the Le Domas mansion. Had made her go through that  _ atrocity _ , had made her connect with a man she had no business ever caring about. 

Brought him here, post-mortem, to haunt her for… however long he was going to haunt her. 

She really wasn’t sure what part of all of this was the most tragic. Probably the part where she started to love him, at least as much as she could love anyone after everything. Though she only let herself think that in the briefest, barest of thoughts—never to admittance. 

* * *

Grace closed her apartment door for the last time, put the key in an envelope and slid it under the door of her building manager’s unit, and then went to her car. Daniel was leaning against the side of it like he needed to wait for her to unlock the door. 

“A jeep, really? You own a jeep?” His face scrunched in distaste. 

“It’s a practical car,” she told him. Grace went around the side and threw her final bag in the back. She was only bringing a box, a duffel, and a backpack filled mostly with her toiletries and electronics. 

Everything else could burn for all she cared. 

“Do you know how often jeeps break down?” Daniel sat in the passenger seat, and besides for the clothing he was wearing he looked like he belonged there. “Come on. Use that Le Domas money and do something nice with it.” 

“Wasteful,” she corrected. “And I can just use all that money to fix all those break downs, now can’t I?” 

“Your money, I guess.” He flung a hand through his hair, looked sadly over at Grace for no reason she could ascertain before turning forward instead. “The empty road awaits.” 

* * *

“Where are we going?” he asked somewhere in Missouri. 

“No where,” she answered. 

His eyes watched wistfully at the wind rushing through the window he couldn’t feel. “Where are we going?” he asked on the edge of Oklahoma.

“Anywhere,” she answered. 

“Where are we going?” he asked, the darkness enveloping them at night, words so close to her ear she felt as if she should be able to feel his lips there, as if she should feel his breath, and somehow despite knowing she couldn’t feeling like she  _ could.  _

“I don’t know,” she answered truthfully, knowing there  _ was  _ nowhere to go. Knowing that wherever she ended up she’d still need to be somewhere else, and she’d still  _ want  _ to be. “I have no fucking clue.” 

“Sounds nice to me,” he answered after a minute.

He pretended he didn’t hear her tears, or maybe he didn’t know what to do—unable to touch, unable to help.

* * *

When she’d first met him, Grace had been wearing a sundress–yellow and flowing around her knees, her chucks on her feet despite Alex asking if they were appropriate for dinner.

“What? Your brother doesn’t know comfort?” she’d asked with a chuckle. She had approached Alex and kissed him on the lips before pulling back her head. “If he can’t handle me with my converse on, then I have a feeling he won’t like me at all.” 

“Oh, he’ll like you…” Alex said, pulling on the words in a way that made Grace pause. 

Grace hadn’t questioned him on what that meant, but she had a feeling she understood when she finally met Daniel Le Domas an hour later at their favorite Chinese restaurant next to their favorite dive bar. He was wearing a dark t-shirt tucked into dark pants, nice leather boots, like someone  _ playing  _ at casual but who’d lost touch with it a long time ago.

“Grace, I presume?” he asked, a hand at her elbow and placing a kiss on her cheek before she could register the action. 

She laughed politely. “Hello to you too. Daniel, I presume?” she joked. 

He smiled, the edge of sarcasm playing at it, but it felt genuine still. “Yes.” 

“No Charity?” Alex asked. 

“No, she said she wouldn’t be caught dead somewhere below a four star rating on Yelp. Really, I think she was just sick of me.”

Grace remembered being taken aback at those words. How could the woman he’d married be that sick of him? And how could he admit it so freely, without an ounce of bitterness? 

_ That will not be Alex and me,  _ she remembered thinking. 

They sat down at a table, Alex next to her and Daniel across from them, and they drank until the initial awkwardness faded. Daniel was… different than Alex. Sharp and sarcastic, but it was  _ fun.  _ Grace liked watching the two of them spar back and forth, and she liked it more still when she got to join.

She couldn’t get over how sad he seemed, though. His cynicism didn’t seem to be something he’d been born with, but more like something he’d had to build brick by brick. A survival technique, and that she understood. Grace wondered why she’d never noticed that in Alex. What had created the rift that made them grow into such different men?

“So, you think I’m going to pass the test?” Grace asked as they sat stuffed full. The server came to take their empty plates, and a beat of silence passed as Daniel waited for the woman to leave so he could lean forward. 

“Oh, you’re delightful Grace.” He scratched at his cheek, leaned back again, watched her in a way she could feel Alex tensing because of by the way his hand gripped at her thigh under the table. “You sure you want to do this? You don’t have to.” 

“Daniel…” Alex warned. 

“I love him,” Grace cut them both off. She gave Alex a smile, and when she turned back to Daniel she noticed one on his face too—it was… sad. It was proud of them, but so so  _ sad.  _

He had known then, obviously, and he knew what might come to happen to her later. What  _ would  _ happen. 

“Well cheers to the happy couple, then,” Daniel said as he raised his glass. He turned to Grace, the beer tilted toward her. “I won’t blame you if you want out, though. Free of our fucked-up family. Might be safest.” 

“Stop trying to get her to leave,” Alex said jokingly but with a voice pulled taut.

“Okay, I’ll stop.” He tapped his glass against hers then his, the beer sloshing over the side with the force of it. He brought the rim to his mouth and drank nearly half of his beer in a single go. “I heard your favorite dive bar is nearby? I love a hole in the wall.” 

Grace clapped her hands to hide her discomfort. “Let’s do it, then.” 

* * *

“What a nice hole in the ground.” 

Grace shot him a side glance, though she couldn’t help but agree. 

The Grand Canyon was beautiful, but she wasn’t sure how long you were meant to stare at it. She remembered being young and coming back from springs breaks at school. Everyone else had stories to tell of going on vacations with their families, of doing something interesting, and Grace’s answers were always the same— _ I stayed home and caught up on TV.  _

Younger her would have been ecstatic to be here, but she realized younger her wanted this to be a certain way. She had wanted this to be a memory with ones she loved. 

She looked beside her at Daniel, hands in his pockets as he leaned back on his heels, eyes wide as he took it all in despite his sarcastic words. 

It was a memory, she supposed. Just not the one of her youth she’d wanted. No family or pictures. This was realer, maybe. 

“I don’t want you to go,” Grace said. Her eyes flashed back to the canyon before she could see his reaction. The wide open space, the sun only now peaking over the horizon, the relative silence made it seem easier to spill her secret. As if all that space might just suck it right up along with the embarrassment of being vulnerable.

“Grace—”

“Ugh, don’t,” she cut him off. “You’re going to…” she trailed off, not sure how to say it all. She waved her hands in front of herself, the silence stretching, before she turned to meet his gaze. “You don’t have to.” 

“I’ve probably stayed too long,” he said. “I can’t believe I’m putting you through more shit by sticking around. And I fucking hate that I don’t want to leave, either. Just another selfish move by Daniel Le Domas.” 

Grace bit her lip, a brief spike of pain as a touchstone to reality. She hated how scared she was of him leaving, of how alone and  _ lonely  _ she thought she might feel. She thought she might need him. She knew sure as anything that she wanted him. 

“I wish I could hold your hand,” he said. 

There was a sudden sting at the back of her eyes like Grace might cry, and she met his gaze. His eyes looked… dare she say loving. Grace wondered if in a different world, in a different circumstance, Daniel could have lived a different life. He could have been softer and more open to the world. He could have  _ loved  _ someone in the truly all-encompassing way Grace knew he would be capable of. 

She held it out to him. He let it hover near her own. For a moment, she could have sworn she felt heat, but then she saw hers flutter through the edges of him, and she had to pull it back to her side for fear of it chipping her spirit. 

* * *

“Bum one?” 

Grace was tilted against the side of the bar, having needed a break when Alex went to find the restroom. She hadn’t expected for Daniel to follow her out, but she supposed it wasn’t that surprising. 

She held out the near full carton to him, watching him pull one out and pop it between his lips with a familiarity she recognized. She held the lighter up for him, trying not to think about how his hands cupped near hers to keep the wind at bay. 

“I’m surprised you’re not a smoker yourself,” Grace said. “You seem like you’d enjoy that sort of thing.” 

“Oh, I do,” Daniel said. “Charity can’t stand it. I figured I could give up one unhealthy coping mechanism for her at least. Compromise is what marriage is all about, right?” 

He didn’t strike Grace as a particularly happy man in his marriage, but she didn’t want to judge. Alex  _ loved  _ Daniel. In a way that Grace envied green and sharply. She’d had nice foster homes, nice parents, nice siblings even, but she’d never had… that. Family. The kind you’d die for. The kind you were stuck with however begrudgingly through thick and thin.

“That’s what I hear,” she said. She inhaled, held it in her lungs, and let it out in a long spiral. “Please don’t rat me out to your family that I’m a smoker.” 

He shook his head. “Don’t worry. I won’t ruin your good girl image. I’m sure they’d never expect Alex to marry anyone but a golden child like himself.” 

“Alex is a golden child?” she asked with a tilt of her head.

Daniel gave her a look then that made a snort come to her lips. Sort of withering. He seemed proud of making her snort, a tilt of his lips that was devilishly handsome appearing. 

“Don’t play dumb. It doesn’t suit you. Look at me then look at him.” 

Grace smiled coyly. “What? You aren’t the family favorite?” 

“I’m sure you could smell the alcohol in my pores when we first met. I’m sure you knew. He’s the first middle child in all of existence to be properly loved.” 

“That’s not exactly how he tells it.” She hadn’t expected to say that, or for conversation to be so easy with Daniel, but it seemed to slip from her tongue before she’d even properly thought on it. 

Daniel tilted his head. “No? How does dear Alex tell it to you?” 

“I hear secrets are a part of a good marriage, too.” 

Daniel held out his cigarette like it was a drink he was cheers-ing, then brought it back to his lips. “Touche,” he said through cigarette smoke. “You got me there.” 

“He loves you,” she said after a beat. “I know that.” 

“I know,” Daniel replied. His eyes were watching the street. There were only a few cars passing, mostly ubers picking up drunk regulars from the bar. He looked back toward her. “I’m not trying to insult you when I say maybe you don’t want to get married, you know. Our family, it isn’t…” 

“I love him,” she said, not for the first time tonight. It was true. Grace didn’t care that his family was fucked up. Hell, she’d  _ known  _ fucked up, and she felt confident she could handle it from him and his siblings. She wanted a fucked-up that was hers for life, the kind you held dearly even when it was annoying and messy. 

“Bless you for it,” he said. He dropped the cigarette to the ground despite it not being finished. 

Grace looked at her own, nearing the end but still holding a puff or two if she really tried. Daniel had the impression of someone who didn’t need to drink or smoke everything to its very last drop because he always knew there would be more from somewhere else. 

She didn’t know if she’d ever grow accustomed to that sort of comfort. “Let’s go find my soon to be husband, yeah? I wouldn’t want him to get jealous of us out here without him.” 

“Oh, I don’t think he’s too worried about me stealing you away, Grace.” 

He kept saying her name, and the strangest thing about it was  _ how  _ he said it. Like Grace’s name  _ was  _ a sort of grace, a holy tinge to it. Something light and hopeful. 

“Well he’s missing us, surely. His two favorite people.” 

Daniel paused, and for a moment Grace felt afraid of what was going to come to his lips, but then he gave her a fake smile—one she was sure he threw at all sorts of people who were happy to be fooled by it, who didn’t want to ask  _ are you okay  _ to see if it was true—and threw an arm around her shoulders to usher her back in. 

He had tried so hard to warn her, she’d realize later sitting in her hospital bed thinking about  _ everything.  _ All the moments she should have noticed something was wrong. All the chances she’d had to  _ get out  _ before the destruction hit. 

Daniel had done more to warn her than Alex ever had. It wasn’t enough, really, but it was… it was a try. Effort from a man who had stopped trying long before she’d shown up. 

He had a goodness even then. She wondered, sometimes, if the goodness she’d seen in Alex was all due to Daniel. If Daniel had willingly given his own up to transplant it to his brother, one more selfless act before he became a selfish asshole trying to survive in bizarre as fuck circumstances. 

Grace didn’t know. She wasn’t all that sure it mattered anymore.

* * *

Daniel yelled, and despite the windows being all the way down it still made Grace jolt. 

“What the  _ fuck,  _ Daniel.” 

“Finally somewhere cool. Vegas, baby.” He brought a hand up to cover the sun from his eyes. Grace thought it was a shame he wasn’t able to wear sunglasses. 

She could imagine him in a t-shirt, aviators or maybe a pair of Ray Bans covering his eyes, lounging in the seat beside her instead of still in his wedding attire. At least ghosts didn’t seem to be able to get uncomfortable. Grace would have never wanted to be stuck in her wedding dress for that long. 

“You can’t do any of the things Vegas is famous for,” she said. “And I’m sure as hell not going to.” 

“What?” He groaned as he slid down into the seat. “Come on. We can’t just drive through. Stop and drink or gamble or  _ something. _ ”

“Why would I want to do it without the debauchery king himself?” she teased, though with an edge to her voice. She had little interest in participating in Las Vegas nightlife. 

“God, I could have shown you a good time in Vegas, Grace.” He sighed as his shoulders slumped. “I’m useless like this.” 

He seemed actually sort of down about the whole thing. 

“I haven’t been this sober since I was in high school.” 

She narrowed her eyes. “You went to a public high school?”

He rolled his eyes. “I haven’t been this sober since my first year at private school. Okay, is that what you want to hear?”

She couldn’t help but laugh. Daniel looked so petulant all of a sudden. It made him look younger, the booze and sweat and facial hair washing away to show a younger version of him. Grace wondered if he’d ever been hopeful about anything in his life. 

“If you could do one thing in Vegas, what would you do?” she asked. 

“I’d have whisky. And drop some sort of obscene amount on the roulette wheel.” 

She sighed, watching him from the corner of her eye. “Fuck, rich people.” 

“Does that mean yes?” he asked with a hopeful tilt of his head. 

She rolled her eyes for good measure, just so she knew she wasn’t  _ happy  _ about it. “Fine. Yes. We’ll spend a night in Vegas.”

He crossed his hands over his heart, turning toward her with wide eyes. “Don’t tease me if you’re not serious.” 

“Oh my god, shut the fuck up you big baby. We’re staying, and I’m going to do it just the way you would.” His brows raised and she flipped him off. “Maybe not  _ just  _ the way you would do it. No drugs. No hookers.” 

He pouted, but it split into a smile after not too long. Grace drove down the strip, letting Daniel guide her to his personal favorite hotel. Grace tried not to let herself feel bad about throwing her keys to a valet, about dropping her credit card at the front desk as Daniel stood behind her shoulder jittering with energy, about picking a luxurious suite that cost more than she’d spend on a month of rent. 

In the elevator, she leaned against the glass paneling before growing nervous her sweat would schmear it and standing back up. “Fuck. That was too much.” 

“Live a little, babe,” he said. 

Grace smiled knowing at least Daniel was having a good time with all of this. He deserved some sense of a last hoorah, one final night of exuberance before… well, Grace wasn’t sure. She knew at some point Daniel would disappear, as much as she didn’t want to think about it. As much as she wished he could stay forever. 

This wasn’t healthy. She knew it wasn’t. You had to let people go at some point, but when she thought about getting into her car and no longer having him in the passenger seat, no longer having someone who understood everything about her… How was she supposed to go back to normal? How did you exist in the world knowing no one would ever understand everything you’ve been through? 

It felt cold and empty and isolating. Grace didn’t want it. 

But she didn’t have to think about that yet, not when the elevator clicked open and she made her way to the end of the hall and opened the door of her suite. 

“Holy  _ fuck. _ Holy FUCK.” Grace squealed as she threw her sad, dirty bag to the ground and sprinted toward the bed. The comforter was a cloud, and she felt her whole body sink into the cushions. She scrunched her face into the pillow, groaning with pleasure. “I’m never moving.” 

“You have to leave the room.” 

“Why would I ever go anywhere,” she mumbled. Her eyes were closed, and there was the peak of sunshine through the windows cascading over her face and making her feel like a snake on a rock soaking in the warmth. 

“We’re in the city of sin.” Daniel was crouched by the side of the bed when she opened her eyes, just enough to see him before she groaned and sunk further. “You’re legally required to I’m afraid.” 

“Fuck.” She hissed, narrowing her eyes at him and pushing up. “I don’t have Vegas clothes.” 

“That’s what being rich is about. You can go buy them.” Daniel sat on the edge of the bed. “If you’re wearing the same thing more than once you’re doing it wrong.” 

She waved a tired hand toward him. “Then why have you been wearing this for the last month or however long.” 

“Low blow, Grace.” He clapped near her face. “Come on. Up and at ‘em.”

“Fuck you.” Grace groaned once more, just for good measure, before getting up to her feet. She pointed at him. “You’re staying here, though. Got it?” 

He pouted but fell into the pile of pillows. “Just turn the TV on for me before you go, yeah?” 

Grace rolled her eyes but did just that. Compromise.

* * *

She’d never been one for frivolity. Even for her wedding Grace had insisted on doing her own makeup until Alex informed her it was forbidden by his family, but she decided just this once she might give it a try. 

_ The city of sin,  _ Daniel had said with a certain sort of excitement. 

Grace bought a dress, the sort of thing that she probably never would have bought even for a date with Alex. It wasn’t the sort of dress she would have picked out with him in mind—too red, too silky, too a little bit not her. But that was what Vegas was about, right? 

She went to the hair salon and told them to chop it to her collarbone, needing to feel the freedom of its weight gone, and then let them curl it lightly. They did her makeup (she’d barely brought any with her, not seeing the point), and when she looked at her plump red lips in the mirror she felt  _ powerful.  _

Grace thought she looked sort of like a hurricane. Perfect. 

By the time she got back to the hotel, the sun had already set, and the nightlife was just beginning. 

“Don’t you dare look at me!” she screamed as she entered the room and slid right into the bathroom. She was owed a grand entrance. 

“Too invested in this documentary about sharks,” he called back.

Grace rolled her eyes in the mirror, watching how they looked anything but princess-like with gold and gray artfully smattered across the lids. She used the hotel towels to rinse the day off of her, regretting that she hadn’t taken more of a shower earlier, before slipping into the dress. 

She looked like a dream. Or maybe a nightmare. Either way she looked  _ hot.  _

When she stepped out of the bathroom, Grace didn’t feel nervous. She just felt… she wasn’t sure. Like for a moment she could be a her without the weight of all the past on her. Like she could just be  _ someone _ , a woman about to have a night out in Vegas. 

“Shit,” Daniel said, eyes widening as he looked up. He sat up abruptly. “Fuck, you look…”

“You’re very articulate,” she said with a mocking nod. “Thank you.” 

“How did I ever charm anyone into marrying me?” he asked, watching her with a wide smile. 

“You didn’t. It was the money.” 

He nodded. “Sounds about right.” He stood up, taking a few steps toward her. “You look incredible, Grace.”

She smiled—true and wide. A smile she hadn’t given since… well, probably her wedding before all the shit hit the fan. “Thank you.” She meant it. 

It seemed like he wanted to say more, but he kept his mouth clamped shut. “You should go. Have fun.” 

“You’re not going to come?” she asked with a tilt of her head.

His smile fell a little. “Don’t you think it might put a damper on the night to have a ghost hovering behind you? Go live a little.” 

Her mouth opened then closed. She wanted to tell him that it didn’t mean much of anything to live by herself, that she didn’t want to do it without his sarcastic comments, without him beside her, but she couldn’t say any of that. It stuck in her throat, hardening like amber. 

“Well,” she said as she slung her purse over her shoulder. “I’ll see you later, then.” 

His eyes weren’t even shy about taking her in one last time, as if he needed one last gulp of air before being deprived of it without her. “Have fun.” 

* * *

Grace was three drinks in. She was on the edge between buzzed and drunk. She’d won thirty bucks at the roulette wheel. She’d lost 80 on slots. Despite hearing Daniel’s voice in her head, she couldn’t seem to gamble any more than that. 

Everyone was around her in their glitz, hanging off of each other’s arms, warmed by alcohol and a good time and— and—

_ It’s true what they say. The rich really are different. _

And then, in every face she saw how she was alone, how she was  _ without  _ him. How stupid she’d become… to grow to care about him in a way she couldn’t recover from. 

* * *

She wasn’t drunk when she walked back up to the room, but she had enough alcohol in her system to still feel the glitter of it edging around her body. It was the lightest she’d felt in a while, and yet the idea of returning to the hotel room was still far more appealing than anything happening downstairs. 

“Honey, I’m home,” she sing-songed. 

Daniel was just about where she’d left him—still on the bed, arm cupped behind his head. He looked up with a fond smile and a raise of his brow. 

“It’s not even midnight yet, Gracie.” 

“Ew.” She winced. “Don’t call me that.” 

That made him smile. He sat up and watched her approach curiously, as if she were an animal at the zoo. “Did you have a good night?” 

The night hit her like a thunderstorm. One minute the sky blue. The next torrential downpour. She’d done so much work to push the past away, to bury it in a grave and pretend it was avoidable, but it wasn’t something she could run from. It was going to be stuck inside of her for… forever. 

The past was intertwined with who she was whether she liked it or not. 

“It’s never going…” she trailed off. There were so many ways to end that phrase.  _ It’s never going to end. It’s never going to be the way it was. It’s never going to be okay.  _ She felt them all equally. 

Her eyes had been trained on the carpet as her mind ran, following the loops of the oriental design. Now, she looked up and met Daniel’s gaze. He was watching her with a mix of worry, of concern, of care. There was a fondness and an unbearable longing. 

Unbearable, mostly, because it felt like looking in a mirror. It was so hard to want something you couldn’t touch. To want it as much as you wanted to breath. 

“I’m sorry.” He seemed it, too. Though she couldn’t quite put a finger on what it was he was sorry for. 

“Come back to life,” she ordered. It was the alcohol, probably, that strange buzz that made her on the edge of crazy.  _ Crazy,  _ she thought again. How many hours had she spent wondering if she was exactly that? That Daniel’s image was one merely fabricated by her head, some strange semblance of a coping mechanism. 

“Grace…”

“I dare you,” she said, arms flung to the side. “Triple dog.” 

“I never should have stayed,” he said with a shake of his head. He stood up and took a step closer to her. They were only a few feet apart now. “The second I found out it was your apartment I should have fucked off.” 

Shit, she wanted another drink. She wanted to blur the world around her fuzzy so it looked less real. She thought not for the first time about how the road trip had been a way to escape, and how it had been a way to keep her alive, too. The road had kept her from wallowing, from drinking until she couldn’t see straight in her apartment surrounded by memories of the life she’d once had. 

The seeds of a life, anyways. The ones that would have grown into something different and beautiful. Or at least that's what she’d thought. 

Now all she had was forward. 

“Well you did,” she told him and took another step forward. Now they were nearly chest to chest. “And now I need you. So fucking own up for once in your life, and  _ stay. _ ” Her finger reached out to poke a chest that wasn’t there, except in the most shocking turn of events it connected. 

“What—” Her eyes widened, and she pushed it in again. Connection. She could feel the silk of his shirt and the heat of a body. She met his gaze, and he looked just as confused as she did. 

His hand went to connect against her wrist. “This is new,” he said in a sarcastic turn, but it came out sort of in awe. 

Grace couldn’t help but reach out and wrap her body around his, nearly jumping into him, and she came in hard contact with his body. The action of it sent him a step back, the bed hitting his knees, and he fell into a seated position—Grace still connected to him. 

“What if you’re just in my head… What if I’m just crazy,” she whispered, forehead against his the entire time. “What if I’ve lost it.” 

Her knees were bracketing his waist, and she could feel his thumb rubbing a circle on her hip where his hand had come to steady him, and this had to be real, didn’t it? He was a ghost. He was gone, but… 

“You might be,” he answered. He shrugged. “Does it matter?” 

She pulled her forehead off, sat back onto her heels, eyed him with a soft smile on her lips that was curving up a little at the edges. “Well then. I guess… fuck it.” 

He seemed to know exactly what she meant, meeting her in the middle with both hands reaching out to cup her cheeks and his lips to clash against her own. 

Kissing Alex hadn’t lacked passion. She hadn’t been joking about their “bone-a-thon” as she’d mockingly called it the day of her wedding—they’d always been pulled to one another, attracted and full of passion, but it was different here with Daniel. She realized now that while her and Alex had gotten on, always had great sex really, there’d been a cliff edge beside them at all times. 

It had felt like she was seconds away from falling over the edge, and it had been  _ exciting _ . She’d loved that while Alex was reliable on paper he was unmanageable in bed, that she couldn’t expect his next move, but she knew now that she’d never seen all of him. The only thing she’d seen were glittering edges she'd been sliced open on in the end. 

So it was a surprise to feel like she knew how Daniel was going to move, react, even while she was overwhelmed with the pleasure of it. He had a way of making her feel on fire, the heat all-encompassing, but completely comfortable in the destruction. 

His lips found her collarbone, her neck, up to right beside her mouth as he hovered over her having flipped them over. 

Grace’s fingers fell into his hair. “Please,” she begged, not finishing the thought before pulling his mouth back to hers. “I need…” she trailed off, unsure of what it was. “You,” she ended with. 

It covered all of it, didn’t it? She didn’t want him to leave. She  _ wanted  _ him by her side, but it was more than that, now. She’d grown too accustomed to him. Grace was terrified of existing in the world with her particular fucked-up brand of trauma and not have someone else who knew the way it felt on your shoulders. 

And even smaller, more minutely, she liked him. Maybe in a way more important, too. She liked so much, maybe too much, about him. She liked being around him. 

“You are…” he trailed off. God, why were they always unable to finish their thoughts? So much of whatever the two of them were existed in the in-between of their words and the spaces between thoughts. 

She smirked. “I know.” She flipped them over, back on top, and liked the way his eyes took her in—half curse, half prayer. 

For a minute, she released her grip on the past and the pain and everything else. If she only had this moment, goddamnit if she wasn’t going to live in it. In it with Daniel. 

* * *

The hotel room was still dark when she woke up—sated despite the edges of a bad dream she’d been having. Daniel groaned beside her at the movement but seemed to be at least half awake himself. He popped an eye open to watch her, the other below the line of the pillow his head was sunk into.

“Go to sleep, Grace.” 

She reached out to touch a crease in his cheek, but her hand touched nothing. It was like putting her hand through a cold spot. In surprise, she yanked it back. 

“I really must be going crazy,” she whispered, watching the hazy image of a man she had touched and held and consumed only hours before. It was like a boulder had been ripped out of her chest, and the cold of him filled the gap. 

His eyes were sad, almost as if he’d expected this. “Go to sleep, Grace.” 

* * *

“Can’t believe we didn’t elope.” 

The last vestiges of Las Vegas were long gone, and it looked more desert than road around them. 

Grace couldn’t stomach to look at him. If she did she would see flesh she couldn’t touch. She’d thought when she left the Le Domas mansion the horrors were over, but just her luck to find herself in a situation far more fucked up. 

She rolled the windows down, pushed her foot a little heavier on the gas, and she screamed at the top of her lungs as the wind rushed past her. Daniel’s eyes were on the side of her face with a heavy weight, but then after a beat his screams had joined her own. 

Tears rolled down her cheeks, glistening in the midday sun. Without missing a beat, the yells had turned to manic laughter. 

“It’s a pretty good joke,” Daniel called over the sounds of laughter and slapping air.

Grace didn’t know if he meant them or the deal with the devil or Vegas or— well, she didn’t know what he meant. Either way, she couldn’t help but agree.

* * *

“Why do you care so much if my brother likes you?” Alex began, leaning against the edge of her kitchen counter. 

Grace rolled her eyes. “Because you love him. He’s your family.” 

“Grace, everyone is dazzled by you. I assure you Daniel won’t be any different.” 

“That’s easy for you to say.” Grace came closer, setting down the wooden spoon she’d been using to stir the pot to wrap her arms around his middle and rest her head on his chest. “I’ve tricked you into loving me. Not the first man or woman to fall for it.” 

“Oh, shut up.” Alex took a deep breath, the movement of it reverberating through his chest and to her cheek where it lay there. “He’s a good person, despite him not thinking it. If I’m right about it, then he’ll love you just as much as I do.”

“Really?” she asked more in a whisper. 

“Daniel is a person that once he cares about you, you’re in. He’d die for you. Hell, he’d kill for you.” 

Grace laughed, the weight washing away as she tipped backward to give her fiance a proper look. “Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.” 

* * *

They made it to San Francisco with relative ease. They didn’t even stop before driving over the bridge and going to the lookout. 

It was early enough that the sun had barely begun to peak its hello over the horizon. She and Daniel continued the silence as they walked near the picnic tables to watch the landscape in front of them. 

It was beautiful. Had this been what Grace had been driving weeks for? This view? This moment? She’d started with a hope to just forget, to be somewhere else, but now it felt like maybe she had never let any of it go to start with. 

“It has to end, doesn’t it?” Grace asked. She turned from the sun rising toward Daniel. 

“Yeah.” He nodded. It was like the fact that both of them had admitted it started the process, his form starting to look hollower than it had before. He was vanishing right before her very eyes. 

“Why’d you know I’d help you?” he asked. She bit her lip. “Come on. One last question for a properly dying man. You said you knew I’d help you. How?” 

She shrugged, and a smile bloomed on her lips that was bright. That was for him and whatever she felt for him. “Because despite everything you think, I knew there was good in you. You are a good man, Daniel Le Domas. And I love you. As stupid and pointless as it is… I do.” 

He closed his eyes, the movement of it tender as a bruise. When he opened them they were shining as if near wet—filled with gratitude. “I never thought I’d feel what it was to love someone. To be loved. Thank you, Grace. You’re…”

“You didn’t even properly say it back,” she teased.

“Oh, you know. You always have.” He chuckled, hands stuffed in his pockets. Like he was walking her home from a date and they were paused on the stoop. Not like he was vanishing right in front of her. His eyes met hers with a ferocity. “I love you.” 

But it was so clearly more than just those three words. 

She shook her head, tears falling freely down her cheeks now. “Don’t say it like it’s goodbye. Don’t say goodbye, Daniel.” 

Daniel stepped forward and broke the distance, shattered it with a delicate hand moving down her forearm to come to her wrist. Then their hands interlaced, held together. Fate, or maybe the devil (who even  _ knew  _ anymore) taunted her. For a moment it was as if he was real and human and here. As if they had any future together that wasn’t  _ this will have to end.  _

It had all been borrowed time, and she knew this, but she had tried hard to convince herself it didn’t have to be that way. That there were other avenues besides gone and done. Besides dead.

There were certain circumstances, and simply put certain people, that made it easy to connect. That you were able to cut through all the shit and meet them right in the middle, right deep in the heart, and Grace didn’t care how long she’d actually known Daniel. He had sliced right into the heart of her gracefully.

In some ways, she felt lucky to have gotten the privilege of that experience. Even if it did mean having to have it ripped away. 

“Grace.  _ Grace _ ,” he said. She would never be able to understand all the facets of feeling he was able to convey in that single syllable. 

_ Daniel, Daniel, she’d said, hands digging into his bleeding throat as if there was any way to save him.  _

_ His eyes had been bleary, not all there, but he looked straight at her for a fleeting second. “Go.” Giving her permission, giving her an order, letting her be free and safe and hopefully someday alive and happy. _

_ For a moment, if time hadn’t been of the utmost importance, she knew she would have bent forward, kissed his cheek, tried to convey what he had done for her. As if there was any way she possibly could. Instead, she said, “Thank you.”  _

“Go,” she said now for him. “It’s okay.” She nodded, answering the unspoken question of  _ will you be okay.  _ “You can go.” 

Daniel stepped forward, and for a wonderful moment the barrier was broken again. He was able to touch her cheek, run his thumb over the flesh and dip forward to kiss her lips. His forehead stayed in contact, and she held onto his shirt for just a second, pretending that she could hold him to the ground, that she could hold him to her.

“Thank you,” he whispered. “Thank you.” 

Then he was gone, and Grace was left with the wide open space. 

* * *

“Not too late to sneak off for one last quickie,” he had whispered into her ear. 

Grace near elbowed him, mostly playfully, as Stevens continued to take pictures that would never turn out. “Oh fuck off,” she said with a laugh. 

“You’re too good for him,” he said. 

She tilted her head. “And  _ much  _ too good for you.” 

“Ouch.” He held a hand over his heart, dipping forward as if revealing one more secret. “But don’t I know it.” He winked.

Her head was thrown back with laughter. She wasn’t thinking about all the family watching her or the fear of what was to come next. She was just blissful. Free. 

* * *

Grace knew the chance of her plant surviving planted randomly in the ground wasn’t high, but she had hope as she patted the dirt around it. The dirt crusted under her nails, the annoyance of it reminding her she was alive, though. 

She took the last of her water bottle and spilled it over the leaves. “Thank you,” she whispered to it. “Stay alive. You’ve done it this long.” 

Maybe she wasn’t just talking to the plant anymore. Maybe that last bit was also a little bit for her. 

For another minute, Grace let herself watch the plant firmly settled in the ground. She let herself take one last view of that wide landscape she’d driven weeks to see. 

Then, she stood up straight and she put her backpack firmly onto her shoulders. 

She had a plane to catch, and new countries to visit, and a life to live. As ridiculous and as far away as it felt, she was going to try to be some semblance of happy. 

For him, she could try for that. And if anyone deserved happy, despite how hard it still felt to hold that thought in her palms and in her heart, she thought it was probably her. 

She closed her eyes. “Thank you,” she whispered one last time. 

Then she set off for whatever was next. 

**Author's Note:**

> join me on tumblr if you're into that sort of thing: [anniebibananie](http://anniebibananie.tumblr.com/)


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